Springfield daily republic. [volume] (Springfield, O. [Ohio]) 1887-1888, 1887-03-26
Explain Il,
well-.han We explain their lmmor.

beautifGl-nOr Yet very young, heing per
haps 30 and Of that extreme fairness which
conveys TO the casual thinker the idea oi
q passionless and colorleS- nature
All, who knew better than Ivan An
salli that il was the fire within her soul
that had burned the face, the lips. the
shoulders OF RoNandra Smirnuff into such
a transparency Of whitenesst Who knev
better than he the pale gold Of her hair,
and the paler blue Of her large eyes, hid q
volcano of sensitive feeling under their
fair exterior,
Moreover, she was dressed i'll white,
with pearls and crystals and diamond-
sparkling on her bosom and the upper
parts Of her arms-indeed, she looked like
an iCiCle aS some one said.
Ivan heard them say it as they passed
he smiled
Madam. did Won hear
"YeS." she answered.
"And"-
"Oh, to them. yes-'an icicle'-snd one
that they could never melt-but what dc
you think Of me-
Too much Ia dare TO utter il"
''lmpossible. -
Il assure yuu"-
"Will YOU then permit me 10 be your
interpreter" RoNandra Smirnoh says,
with a little smile just breaking the frozen
pink arch Of her mouth.
Ivan bowed. looking at her with that
comprehensive glance which man never
gives 10 but one woman in his lifetime.
'lYou are kind 10 permit it," The smile
breaks into a little low ripple Of cool
laughter. more Intoxicating to him who
listened than would have been the most
luscious mirth Of the reddest lips Of his
own south land.
.'Well-you think-here is . woman
who has been loved. as brothers, friends,
lovers love, by men of talent, strength
in brief, by men-and not 10 he loved in
some fashion is for her n new sensation,
from which she viii not draw back-no-
rather will she extend tn this novelty the
right hand of welcome; she is charmed
with it, That is what you say 10 your
self, Ivan Ansaldi. and you are correct.
wish nothing 81 much as that YOU shall
like me-not more than that-with that
am content"
And am not
Nine Smirnoff shruSs her snowy
shoulders.
mo. Oh. by Heaven" cries he under
his breath. What a woman you are
"What kind Of woman, then. am ~
81 do not know-I do not know-the
kind Of woman that is at once a mans in
spiration and his despair can think OF
only two words Of Dante's when look at
you
And those aref'
1.-The eternal pearl"
Your Italian said il Of the moon"
"Ies. and I borrow it for you-for,
should sin dye you as deep a red rs those
Roses yonder-should crime blacken you
IS somberiy as look our starless nights
still YOU would 10 ire shine forever white,
spotless; you puzzle, you ir-
ritate, You entrance me!'
RoXandra Smirnof shudders and Ivan
stoops TO gather her fur cape over her.
Why did you think of that"
What"
'.Sin-and-crimes'
The music. u friends voice, these things
recall Ivan to an ordinary view Of the sit
latiOn.
All" he says. You must pardon
ne To tell YOU the truth. I stumbled
,ver memento of a friend Of mine who
Is influence must he haunting me"
And should such mementos rise be-
ween you and me:" murmurs she in a
7oice whose melted musicalness was more
ike perfume TO his senses than sound"
Between US" corrects Ivan. No
md yet. my countrymen are brutally su-
,erstitious, and am one OF them"
How" she asks dazedly.
We'll" Ivan Ansaldi leans over the
liyh back OF Nine Smirnoff's chair, his
rms folded, his eyes bent upon the fair
ace upturned to question his.
We'll. we love each other; that is the
ruth, is 1t not'"
Yes" she breathes heavily under the
elvet OF her bodice.
''It is great thing-it is the thing
ave looked for all my life
And l." RoNundra murmurs
"lou fill my eyes, my soul, my senses,
ny heart and brain. / must tell II TO
our
A little crimson color creeps into her
'srted lips: a little fleck Of pink blood
inges the white OF her cheek
And. Ivan says slowly and painfully,
there is something else that | must say
o you also. Do mot deny me. do not even
ook at met is fate, and with that it is
,est not to disagree. l saw to VOC good
w
He leaves her.
He leaves the house OF his friend blind
r. and. not stopninc to enter n carriage.
,1sbes across the city TO his own house,
As he enters the drawing room the dark
10th covering the statue of Memory ciinrs
D his rough surtout. With a muttered
he threw himself upon the
OUNCE.
He vaguely heard the bells ring out the
ours-1wo, three. He listened to a dog
ark in the street, the dull sound of car
iage wheels grating on the ice: voices; a
all; footstcps-some one without; some
ne admitted by a sleepy servant.
Ansal,u neither turned his head nor
pened his ewes.